Drunk Tank
by LemonSupreme
Summary: The Patriot War is over and it's Octoberfest in Willoughby. Both Charlie and Bass drink more than they should, and get thrown into the drunk tank to sober up. Tensions have been high between the two of late, and close quarters bring a lot of unresolved issues to the surface. One-shot blackout Charloe for GSC's Corn/Porn challenge.


**A/N: My final submission for thegoodshipcharloe's Cornicopia/Pornicopia challenge. This is a one shot, and it's proportionately far more porn than corn. Enjoy. Special shout out to Romeokijai for reading this over and giving me some wonderful feedback (as always, a pleasure to work with you.) Thank you!**

* * *

"You can't fucking put me in jail for being drunk." Bass stumbles as he is shoved into the cell. "You just can't."

Miles chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, but I can. Get your dumb ass in there and sober up."

"Ever since you got elected sheriff, you're no fun at all. You should be out there too. It's fucking Octoberfest." Bass trips on his own feet and falls into the bunk. "Well, sort of."

Miles slams the cell door shut and shakes his head. "Aaron did the best he could. Seems like you had enough booze to drink, so what's your complaint?"

"All we ever had to do in this town is drink, and I had a handle on that –" Bass's eyes are bloodshot and his voice is garbled.

"Clearly." Miles smirks.

Bass ignores the interruption. "Then Aaron decided to start making craft beers and giving us samples, and samples turned into this beer fest idea and I don't remember beer ever hitting me this hard."

"Pretty sure he figured out some new sci-fi voodoo recipe. My guess is it's not even a little bit like any beer you ever drank before."

"Ah hell. How long am I in here for?"

"Till tomorrow at noon, Bass. Go to sleep. There's a jug of water on the shelf. Merle will bring some food later, if he's sober enough to remember it himself."

* * *

"What did I do wrong?" Charlie stumbles as she is shoved into the jail cell by none other than her uncle.

"You got wasted and tried to kick Johnny Ritter's ass. He outweighs you by two hundred pounds. Nothing good was coming from you being that drunk in public." Miles shakes his head, trying to hide a smile.

"So now what?"

"You can be drunk in here where you can't hurt anyone. I'll let you out tomorrow."

"You can't do this." Charlie fumes unsteadily.

Miles lets out an exhausted sigh. "Yeah, Charlie. I can and I am."

Charlie sways as she looks around the cell. "Wait. Someone is already in here." She points to the curled up figure in the cot. "Someone is sleeping in my bed."

"Relax, Goldilocks. It's just Bass. He's in here for the same reason you are."

Charlie turns and Miles slams the door shut with a bang before she can walk out. "You can't keep me in here with him! You said I wasn't supposed to hurt anyone, but in case you haven't noticed, Monroe and I don't exactly get along these days."

"Yeah. I've noticed," Miles says, dryly.

"Miles, at least give me my own room!"

"They're cells, Charlie. Not rooms. This isn't a hotel. Besides, I'm sick of you two avoiding each other. Get sober and work out your problems. You used to get along. Figure out how to get back to that. I'll be back tomorrow morning."

Charlie can't remember ever feeling this drunk, especially from beer. She'd had a few bottles of one of Aaron's original brews that he called Lady Killer. Lady killer, indeed. Charlie feels like shit. She rubs her head, looking for a place to sit. The cell is tiny. There is the one cot and not much else. A lantern hangs from a hook outside the cell. The bars act as filters, filling the small space with stripes of dim lantern light. She settles on the floor in front of the wall opposite the cot and tries to get comfortable.

Bass's snores echo through the small space and Charlie can tell this is going to be a long night.

* * *

"Rise and shine." Charlie's eyes have barely opened when she hears the voice. His voice.

She looks up, rubbing her aching neck with one hand. "What time is it?" She mumbles, her voice still thick and sluggish with sleep.

"No idea. Still full dark."

"Why'd you wake me up?" She scowls at him.

"Jesus, Charlotte. I was trying to be nice. Saw you sleeping there on the floor when I woke up. Figured you might want to switch places."

"Oh." She yawns, squinting in an attempt to see him better in the dim cell.

Bass leans forward which moves his face into the dull glow of the lantern light from outside their cage. He looks like she feels. Exhausted and hungover. His gaze meets hers, but his eyes are cold and unreadable.

She lets out a long sigh. "Thanks, but I'm okay."

He flops back on the cot, muttering, "Stubborn fucking Mathesons." He closes his eyes but doesn't bother to lift his feet. They rest on the floor beside the cot.

Charlie grits her teeth and stands on stiff legs. "Fine. Let's trade places."

"Nah. Changed my mind. Stay on the floor." Bass knows he sounds childish. He doesn't care. "Wouldn't' want to wound your pride."

"Don't be a dick."

"Don't be a bitch."

She stomps across the cell and kicks him hard in the shin.

"Ow! Damn it, Charlie! That hurt."

"Sorry. Should I call your nurse? She could come and kiss it better?" Charlie's voice is low and her eyes are narrow. She clenches and unclenches her fists.

Bass rubs at his shin and glares at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You don't think I know? I saw you with that nurse. She was in your house and you had your shirt off –"

Bass is on his feet and in her face. "WHO? Nobody has been in my house!"

"You can't lie to me. It was Gabby Miller. I saw you two with my own eyes." Charlie crosses her arms. "It was right after we… It was the very next day and I went over to your place and…"

He shakes his head. "No. I didn't have anyone over at my place. Not once. Not since –"

She unclasps her arms and lunges at him, pushing hard enough to almost knock him over. "I SAW HER! I SAW HER WITH YOU AND YOU HAD YOUR SHIRT OFF!"

Monroe is livid and pushes back. Charlie's shoulders slam into the cinderblock wall and Bass has her upper arms gripped so tightly, his fingers are white. "It didn't happen." His voice contains his rage, but just barely.

Charlie is winded after being slammed into the wall but the look on his face gives her pause. "But I saw you." This time her voice is quiet. Her eyes are wide. "Are you saying Gabby didn't go to your house the day after we.. she wasn't standing in your kitchen, undressing you? Cause that's what it looked like from your front porch."

"The day after? No." He shakes his head firmly, but then he slowly releases her arms and steps back. "Wait. Gabby is the red head with the big rack?"

What little doubt she'd allowed to creep in is gone with those words and she flies at him again, punching him repeatedly in the chest and stomach. "You bastard!"

When she jabs at his jaw he stops her, grasping her wrist firmly. "Charlie! Calm the fuck down. I didn't even know her name."

Charlie's eyes are ablaze. "That's just perfect."

"No. That's not what I meant. I had three broken ribs. Your Grandpa saw it all happen. Told me he was going to come over and wrap them for me, but he got called away on an emergency and sent that girl. She was wrapping my damned ribs, Charlie. I was in no shape to fuck her even if I wanted to." He pauses, making sure she's looking in his eyes. "Which I didn't."

"But…" Charlie's confusion is evident. "Wait. What broken ribs? You sure as hell weren't banged up the night before when we were –"

"You're right. It happened later. I was on my way home." Now it's Bass's turn to look disgusted. "Your boyfriend Calvin attacked me with a fucking crowbar about a block from my place. Told me I'd better stay away from you because you were spoken for."

Charlie laughs. "You're kidding, right? Calvin? Calvin Coy?"

"Yeah. That little cocksucker hit me from behind with a damn crowbar. I was lucky he didn't aim for my head."

"He told you that I was his girlfriend?" Charlie's astonishment is almost comical. Her mouth hangs open and her eyebrows arch high. "And you believed him?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, no. I didn't know. Then your Grandpa came running up and he said something to Calvin about how you were going to be pissed and how he'd better apologize and something about how you'd never marry him if he was mean to your friends."

Charlie shakes her head. "So, you took that to mean I was dating him? That we were what? Getting MARRIED?"

Bass shrugs. "Didn't know."

"Listen, I don't know what you think you heard, but I have never been involved with Calvin in any way. Why didn't you think to come ask me about it? Ask me if it was true?"

"I DID come to ask you about it. After my ribs were wrapped up and I took some pain pills that nurse gave me, I went to your place. You weren't there. So, I went to the bar and found you talking to CALVIN COY and he was putting his hands on your ASS." Bass is back in her face now, as the memory of that night burns just as hot and painful as it had the night it happened.

"Didn't stick around very long after that, I guess?" Charlie grits her teeth.

"No. I left and went home and drank myself into a stupor. ALONE!" His voice has risen with each word and the final syllable is a shout.

Charlie doesn't back down. "If you'd bothered to stick around for five more fucking minutes, you would have seen me knee Coy in the balls for touching my ass and then you would have watched Miles arrest that sorry sack of shit and haul him away. Miles told him to get out of town as soon as he was released, and as far as I know, that's what he did!"

Bass takes a step back, suddenly unsure. "What? So you and him?"

"There was no me and him. Not ever. No me and anybody else. Not since you and I…" Charlie moves toward him, needing to bridge the gap.

He startles her backward again when he bellows, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

She shakes her head. "No. I'm not kidding."

Bass punches the wall. Something cracks, but other than a grimace, he doesn't seem to notice. "Three months? Three months we've been fighting and avoiding each other and all that time it was what? A fucking misunderstanding?"

"Seems like it was." Charlie's voice is soft as she moves in again, reaching up to stroke his cheek with a fingertip.

Bass takes a deep, steadying breath, and presses his forehead to hers. "Shit. Missed you."

"Me too." She agrees. "Those three months were torture."

"Yeah." He presses his body against hers then, rolling his hips to show her just where he's feeling most tortured at the moment. "Need to make up for lost time. Need you." He buries his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. "Need you now."

"Here?" Charlie feels a jolt going straight to her core. She has never wanted anything or anyone as much as she wants Bass right now, but a jail cell feels a little exposed for her liking.

He hesitates, but only for a moment. "Yeah. Here." He nods toward the bars. "Nobody's here. Can't wait any longer."

"Should we talk?"

He nuzzles her neck, biting lightly at her pulse point. "Don't want to talk."

Charlie smiles slowly. "Okay. You convinced me." She reaches for his belt even as his mouth descends on hers. These first touches after months apart are electric. She opens her lips for him. He tastes and explores, pressing his mouth to hers in a heated clash of teeth and tongue.

Their movements are urgent and needy. Desperate for more contact, they yank at each other's clothes. Boots are kicked aside.

Memories of the only other time they'd been together assail their lust-addled brains. Charlie remembers that they'd been in a public place that time too. Bass had been filling in as bartender at Aaron's bar. Charlie had stuck around after closing. They played a few games of pool, drinking and laughing and flirting.

As the night wore on, it had become clear that they had each been holding back and that things couldn't be delayed any longer. The need was too fierce. Once this mutual desire was acknowledged, things had escalated quickly. Before the night was over, he had her bent over the pool table, pounding her from behind. Later they had crawled up on top of the green felt, pushing balls and queues out of the way to repeat their earlier performance. Where the first meeting had been hard and fast, the second had been slow and sweet.

This reunion in the jail cell is the perfect combination of intensity and sweetness. His kisses are aggressive and probing at first, but gradually they turn into a lingering trail that follows her jawline. Charlie keens against him, wanting more. He understands, jerking at her shirt even as she is working to pull his off over his head. They fling their clothing without thought to where any of it falls. A boot lodges, unnoticed, between the bars. All they are aware of is each other, and the building fever they share.

Charlie throws her head back as Bass licks from sternum to chin. His tongue is rough against her smooth flesh. Goosebumps rise on her skin and every nerve ending tingles. She strokes her fingers softly up his arms and over his shoulders. She scratches gently down his back, grasping at his ass, kneading the perfect globes.

Bass sucks at the sweet spot just behind her ear. He smiles against her heated skin as she moans. He slides his hand between her thighs, finding her drenched with need. His cock twitches against her thigh. He sinks his nose into her long curls, loving the scent of her hair and skin. He'd missed her more than he would ever care to admit. Now that he has her, he's going to enjoy every second.

She reaches for Bass's cock, hoping to urge him on. She's ready, slippery with desire, aching to be filled by him. Charlie can't imagine waiting much longer. She needs him now.

He swats her hand away, smirking at her responding growl. Taking the hand that he's moved, Bass laces his fingers in hers, lifting her arm high. With his other hand he cups her breast, loving the fit of it in his palm. "Beautiful," he mutters before leaning in to take the tender pebble between his lips.

Charlie grinds against him then and his cock grows impossibly and painfully hard. He thinks about pulling away, about prolonging this longer. In the end, his need for Charlie wins out over any desire for extended foreplay. With a grunt, he lifts a knee up and she rests her heel on his ass.

She cries out as Bass fills her. She'd forgotten how goddamned big he is, and the way his cock stretches her pussy until she can't think straight. She digs her fingernails into his shoulders as he lifts her other leg and begins to move in and out.

He moves at a steady pace at first, giving her time to expand and accept him. As her walls become used to his invasion, he begins to move faster. Soon, he is pumping into her heat with fast, hard thrusts. She cries out every time he slams into her depths. She's not the only vocal one tonight though. Bass grunts every time he pounds her cervix.

They are a sweaty, writhing mess. Their cries echo in time with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. Bass knows he's close and he kisses her as his balls tighten. He can feel the first flutters of her orgasm and that is all he can take. He pushes into her as deep as he can go, human instinct taking over where all rational thought has gone away.

Charlie comes hard, spasming around his cock. He follows only moments later, dumping his seed into her core with a yell that reverberates off the cinder blocks. They collapse against each other, panting and sweaty and spent.

"Holy shit," Charlie moans. "That was –"

"Yeah. It was." He kisses her again, softly this time. Slowly he pulls from her body and helps her stand on shaky legs. "Who knew getting arrested would be this much fun?"

* * *

They wake the next morning, deliciously sore and tangled on the cot they share. The sunlight is bright in the cell but it isn't the sunlight that brings them both from an exhausted slumber. No, the thing that wakes them up is the howl of Sheriff Miles Matheson. "I told you to work your shit out, not… not THIS!"

Charlie sits up blearily, scrambling to button up her shirt. Bass sits as well, wrapping his arms around her. They both stare at Miles, unrepentant. Charlie shrugs. "We did work our shit out, Miles. I don't think we'll be arguing anymore."

Bass chuckles but won't meet Miles's eyes. For now, he's probably safest with steel bars separating them.

Miles shakes his head. "You aren't supposed to enjoy jail, you idiots, especially not like that."

Frank Blanchard appears at Miles's side. "I don't know, Sherriff. I sure as hell enjoyed my time behind bars last night. Maybe not quite as much as those two did, but it was really a lot more fun than I expected."

This gets their attention. Charlie's gaze zeroes in on Frank. "Wait. You were here?"

"Sure, beautiful. I was in the next cell over. I almost announced myself early on, but boy am I glad I didn't. Listening to you two was almost as good as old fashioned porn back before the blackout." Blanchard taps his temple with one finger. "Made a pretty big deposit in the old spank bank. Thanks for that."

Miles pushes Blanchard down the hall. "That's enough, Frank. Get out and go home."

Bass pulls Charlie close and they lie back on the cot once more. He strokes her hair. "You think Miles is going to let us out?"

"Eventually, yeah." She grins at him. "I'm not in any hurry though. You?"

"Nope. No hurry at all."

Charlie sighs as he begins to nuzzle the tender spot below her ear. "A girl could get used to this."

"I sure as hell hope so," Bass growls as he slides a hand under her thigh to bring it over his hip. "Cause this is going to be the way it is from now on. You and me, together."

"Incarcerated?" She chuckles softly against his ear.

"Anywhere works for me. Anywhere you are is where I want to be."

"Prove it?" she purrs softly.

And so that's what he does.

* * *

 **A/N: Comments fuel my charloe fire... Please leave one. Working on the final chap of Shelter from the Storm now and plan to post it on Thanksgiving Day. Then I am going to focus 100% of my energy to finishing Two Roads before delving into the holiday season. And speaking of holidays, you have till Nov 28 to join in on thegoodshipcharloe's Christmas fic exchange. Go sign up. You won't be sorry.**


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